


Must Not Tell Lies

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-12 04:16:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18003650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Based off a prompt from tomarrywritingprompts on tumblr:"Harry writing ‘I must not tell lies’ wasn’t just a cruel and unusual punishment, it was a curse. Harry is now literally unable to tell a lie. To compensate, Harry now speaks in misleading riddles, twisting the truth until it suits his purposes."Starts off during the Order of the Phoenix.





	1. Chapter 1

Harry stares at the words carved into his hand. He had another of his detentions with Umbridge. ‘I must not tell lies.’ At first he thought that the pain was bad enough, after writing for hours on end. But then came the humiliation when Hermione and Ron found out. They stood by him, so it wasn't too bad. They called his most recent enemy names, and helped him apply Murtlap Essence to relieve some of the pain. But he felt like a burden, and couldn’t help but think that they were pitying him for everything he gets put through.

But at breakfast the following day something strange happened that changed everything.

* * *

“-I can’t believe the nonsense that Skeeter insists on spewing on about!” Hermione was going on about how unfair the paper was while Harry only half listened to her rant.

“Most of it isn’t even based on facts! It’s just horrendous how she lies about everything and spreads rumors!”

Ron looks up from his breakfast briefly, “What’s she said this time?”

“The usual,” Harry said, his eyes roaming over the paper, “how I’m a horrible, lying, attention seeking brat.” In the beginning, he was  frustrated with people not believing him about Voldemort. Now it was getting repetitive and annoying to hear about. Harry absentmindedly scratched at the red, irritated words etched in his hand.

Hermione caught the gesture and leaned in, lowering her voice to avoid eavesdroppers. “Does it still hurt? I can apply more Murtlap before we head to charms class.”

And then Harry did the strangest thing. Instead of saying no, as to not bother Hermione, he told the truth. Luckily, Hermione missed the stunned look on his face because she was rooting around in her huge book bag. Muttering to herself and shuffling papers around it took her over a minute to find what she was looking for.

“Here it is! I’ve started carrying it with me since I’ve noticed how many people are sporting bandages on their hands.” She smiles and passes Harry the jar filled with Murtlap Essence.

Harry mutters out a quiet “thanks.” before putting it on and wondering why he said something he didn’t mean. Or rather, did mean, but didn’t mean to say out loud.

‘I must not tell lies’ haunts him as the end of breakfast bell sounds and he heads to charms. Deep in thought, he watches Hermione scold Ron for not finishing the homework last night.

_ ‘I wonder... _ ’

* * *

When it happens again at during potions, he brushes it off as another coincidence. When it happens again during lunch he quickly notices the pattern. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he quietly asks Ron and Hermione to see him before the DA meeting. Ron gives him a funny look but agrees. His off put behavior must be showing. He starts to assure them that nothing is wrong, but decides against it and settles for sending them a smile.

Throughout dinner, Ron and Hermione send him, and each other, worried glances. When they finally reach the come and go room, Hermione questions him straight away.

“What’s wrong Harry?”

“Can you test to see if I’m dosed with one of those truth potions or something?”

Her faces scrunches up. “Like Veritaserum? Yes, but why-?” She stops when she notices the look on Harry’s face. “You don’t think that-”

Harry interrupts her brigade of oncoming questions, with a single, half murmured word.

“Please.”

At his request she mutters a spell that Harry is only vaguely familiar with. After a moment of waiting, a light blue glow appears around Harry.

She shakes her head. “Blue means that there hasn’t been a dosage of a truth potion in at least three weeks. Now will you  _ please _ tell us what's going on with you today.”

Harry sighs and plops himself down into one of the chairs that the Room has made, exhausted. Between the nightmares of last year and Umbridge hounding him this year, he hasn't been able to sleep much.

“Let’s run a test. You both ask me things that are obvious and random and I’m going to try to lie to you.”

Ron started off. “What’s my full name?”

“Ronald Bilius Weasley.”

“What is your full name?”

“Harry James Potter.”

Hermione started up after that.  Answering questions for a minute, Hermione asked something Harry  _ really  _ wished she hadn't.

“What was your first Hogwarts letter addressed as?”

Harry looked down at his hands, glad that even if he was forced to tell the truth, that he wasn’t forced to speak. After a beat of silence he decided to speak up. ‘The final test,’ Harry thought bitterly to himself.

“ _ The cupboard under the stairs _ .” His voice sounded small, even to his own ears, and he resisted the urge to sigh.

Hermione was heartbroken and Ron looked at Harry with concern showing on his face. Luckily, they both knew about Harry’s living situation, finding out during second year. And while they were upset that he kept being sent back, they had agreed that it was for the best that Harry did. He needed the protection of the blood wards after all.

“Someone spell you with something then?” Ron asked after a moment of tense, uneasy silence.

Harry shook his head. “No, I think...” He unwrapped his hand, the words ‘I must not tell lies’ glaring up at him, as pink as the person who put them there. Hermione followed his line of sight and gasped.

“That  _ bitch. _ ” Ron spat out murderously.

Hermione opens her mouth to say something, when the door to the Room of Requirement opens, cutting her off.  The other DA members quickly start filling in. She discreetly shoots Harry a look that says ‘don’t think this is over’ before going over to greet them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tadaa! Let me know what you think of the first chapter!!
> 
> -Mayo


	2. Chapter 2

“I guess I shouldn’t even be surprised that the Defense teacher is try to mess with me. Professor Lupin was apparently the only one without a vendetta against me.” Harry sighed, dragging his hand through his hair, tired.

The DA meeting went well enough.  It took Hermione two days to come up with an alternative to the rubbish classes that Umbridge taught. After a couple of weeks of DA meetings, Harry was starting to get into the hang of teaching. It didn’t take very long to clean up either.

“I don’t think that Lockhart was smart enough to have a vendetta against you.” Ron mused, waving away some half-burnt up dummy. Seamus got a little to liberal with his wand movements which started  _ another _ fire.

“He might as well have. All that presenting in front of the class and the bullshit acting. Not to mention he finished the year off with an impressive Obliviate spell.” Hermione and Ron exchanged amused glances, remembering the farce of a wizard.

After examining the room for anything else, Hermione turned to Harry, voice serious.

“We have to tell someone about the detentions and whatever curse she’s put on you. We should also go to Madam Pomfrey and get you checked out. Something like this can be very dangerous.”

Ron nodded, looking thoughtful. “It doesn’t force you to answer though?”

“No, I had a choice about answering, just not about what I could say.”

Ron released a sigh. “That’s good I suppose. If nothing else you can keep quiet or twist the truths.”

Harry’s curiosity piqued. “Twist truths? How?”

Ron scratched his head thoughtfully. “I guess like how Luna does. She’s telling you her version of the truth, so she’s technically not lying,” He paused. “ Or like twins were they both talk really fast and sort of all at once so its more confusing. I dunno.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Hermione snapped. “We are going to Madam Pomfrey to make sure you're okay and unharmed.  Then we are going to get that  _ woman  _ fired for torturing students! Honestly, where does Dumbledore find these people!”

“This ones not really his fault though. Mostly Fudge’s for appointing her.”

“Still!” Hermione huffed indignant.

“Never thought I’d see the day were you would bad mouth a teacher.” Ron put a hand to his chest, and mimed wiping tears from his eye. “They grow up so  _ fast. _ ”

Harry grinned lopsidedly. Hermione noticed and scowled at their silly theatrics.

“Off to the Hospital Wing with you!”

* * *

“How have you managed to get black magic in your veins on the third week of school?!”

Harry scratched his neck, “Well... you see I had detention--”

“Detention?!” Madam Pomfrey, was furious in a way that Harry had never seen her be before. Upset, occasionally. Exasperated, often, especially involving him. But, furious? Harry felt strangely small, looking at the healer's fury.

“Professor Umbridge... had this quill...” His voice got quieter and quieter as he went on and Madam Pomfrey just stared at him in righteous anger.

Abruptly she stood up, and began towards her desk muttering under her breath. “Never in my years... A teacher!! Using dark magic on a student! During detention, no less!”

She effortlessly scrawled out a note and handed it to Harry. “Take this to the owlery and then head back here immediately.”

“Er..” Her glare silenced him and he retreated to the owlery without anymore complaints.

* * *

After sending the note away on a beautiful barn owl, Harry found himself stuck on bed rest.

“Honestly, I feel fine. It doesn’t even-” he started to say that it “didn’t even hurt” but his voice cut out half way. Apparently, white lies weren't permitted either. Harry fought the urge to huff unhappily.

“Doesn’t even what?” Madam Pomfrey inquired, tone deceptively mellow for the glare she was giving him.

He decided not to tell Madam Pomfrey about not being able to lie at that moment, lest she question his health more.

“Nothing.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious, and opened her mouth to question him further. Luckily, Snape entered, levitating a box, distracting the healer for the moment.

“I have finished brewing the pepper ups you’ve asked for. Do you need anything else?” While Snape didn’t sneer at Madam Pomfrey, his lazy drawl almost seemed to do so for him. Almost everything about that man was unpleasant.

“I need purifiers and.... oh, wait a minute so I can do a full scan of Mr. Potter, and see what  _ else _ he’s neglected to tell me about.”

Harry froze as Madam Pomfrey shot a spell at him and tapped her wand on a nearby blank parchment sheet. ‘Does a full scan see  _ all _ my injuries...?’

“Let’s see here-”

“Wait-” Harry leapt up and tried to distract her from reading it, but it was too late.

Madam Pomfrey stood stiff as she read over  _ all, _ the listed injuries on the paper. And Harry knew that there were a lot.

After a moment she swiftly turned to Snape, whole body tense.

“All I need are the purifiers, I have the rest here.” She then abruptly turned towards Harry and placed several wards up. Snape raised an eyebrow at her behavior but nods and takes his exit.

“Now that we are behind privacy wards I am going to remind you that healers take oaths. Oaths do not permit us to reveal anyone's health information without their consent. Please keep that in mind. Now. Explain the malnourishment, the traces of unknown dark magic, and the basilisk venom and Phoenix tears in your bloodstream.” Her face was blank, her masks firmly in place as she handled the situation, but Harry could see the fury in her eyes.

He looked down at his feet as he began to explain. “The phoenix tears are there because of the basilisk venom, only thing that can beat it you know?” He frowned and paused. “I don’t really know about the dark magic infused with my core though. Might have something to do with the curse on me?”

“What curse?” It was posed as a question, but Harry felt that it really wasn’t one.

“After my detention with Umbridge I was unable to tell a lie.”

Madam Pomfrey frowned. “We’ll talk more about that later. The abuse?”

Harry refused to meet her eye and kept silent. After a moment or two she spoke again. “I see.”

Harry really wished she didn’t.

* * *

What they both failed to notice was the Potions Professor that had been listening to every word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got so excited about writing I wrote the second chapter already lol. 
> 
> -Mayo


	3. Chapter 3

Snape hurried to the dungeons, his natural habitat, processing everything that he heard. Not only was Potter infected with Dark Magic, but Albus had led him to believe that he was a carbon copy of his father. Scowling he swoops into his private rooms and makes his way towards his floo. While he is no longer loyal to the Dark Lord, it doesn’t hurt to drop by with information that could be useful. If nothing else it might save him from some of the torture.

Stepping into the floo, he called out for the Malfoy manor, and prayed that the Dark Lord would be in a good mood.

* * *

Lord Voldemort was bored. And a bored Dark Lord was never a good thing to have. While he was planning on breaking out his more loyal followers, they were put on hold until his numbers grew. Sitting in his throne twirling his wand he heard the floo start up. ‘Ah good, my entertainment arrives.’

When Severus entered and nearly tripped over himself trying to bow, he was surprised.

“Severus.” He drawled out lazily, loving the way Severus shuddered from his voice alone. “How nice of you to visit. I’m assuming you have a reason for being here?”

Severus quickly nodded before he launched into his explanation. “My lord, I was spying on the Potter brat and I found out several interesting things about his life.” He paused, hoping this was a good enough excuse for visiting to not get tortured on the spot.

Voldemort made an impatient hand gesture and he continued.

“His core is infected with an unknown dark magic, which I find amusing since he is the  _ protector of the Light _ . Not only that, be he has come in contact with a curse that has made it impossible for him to lie to anyone about anything.”

Now  _ that _ was some very interesting information. Dumbledore was likely filling the boy's head with ways to defeat him. But, he doubted that dark magic was apart of that. And a curse that made it impossible to lie? That was icing on the metaphorical cake. Any sort of interrogation would go wonderfully once he convinced the boy to speak.

He smirked. Not that it would be very difficult to convince him to open his mouth. Just threatening to cut up one of his precious friends would do the trick beautifully.

“This news pleases me. If there is nothing else?” He would need to start planning on how to capture the boy immediately.

“My lord there is one more thing.” Severus hesitated, and Voldemort narrowed his eyes. ‘What else could there be?’

“He has been abused my lord. I don’t know the specifics but it sounded like he had often faced starvation.”

“I see... Your report has been most illuminating...” Picking up on the clear dismissal a look of relief flashed through Severus’s eyes and he flooed away.

'Abuse? I didn’t think that dear old Dumbles would let someone else manipulate his weapon.'  And in his mind there was no way that Dumbledore didn’t know. The old coot practically knew everything that happened in that bloody castle.

‘Unless... he planned on the abuse shaping the boy... Yes that had to be it.’

Voldemort stood up from his throne smirking. Even if it wasn’t planned, it would be easy to cause distrust amongst the Light and the supposed 'Golden Trio'.

‘Maybe I won’t even have to torture his friends for information.’ His smirk grew at the thought. ‘I just have to bring him to my side. He’s already infected with darkness, and with the abuse he’ll easily run into my arms.’

Plotting away happily, Lord Voldemort enters his study.

* * *

Harry never wanted to taste another potion in his life.

Not only did they often smell of fermented cow dung, they tasted like they had been vomited up twice. Madam Pomfrey felt no sympathy for the plight of the potion drinkers and made him drink one after with no break.

A skele-gro for some of his broken bones that were a birthday gift from his uncle. Nutrient potions the color of bloody-mud for the long weeks of not eating. A potion that was to correct his vision that burned down his throat and made him belch. And a purifying potion that Snape took joy in making, that would help with the quill scars and the dark magic.

Madam Pomfrey wanted him to eat after, but he found himself so nauseated from the potions that he couldn't.

At one point he tried to sneak out to the Gryffindor tower, only to find Pomfrey at the only exit with her hands on her hips. Needless to say, he was told off quite loudly (and for a long time) and was forced to stay the night.

Staring up at the darkened hospital wing ceiling, Harry found himself smiling slightly. Someone else was taking care of him. No one else had done that before. Not like this. And while Harry didn’t doubt that Sirius and Mrs. Weasley cared about him, they always sent him back to the Dursleys. Madam Pomfrey made it clear that he wouldn’t be going back to them ever again, and Harry honestly believed her. He doubted Dumbledore’s explanations of the blood ward would mollify her enough to let him be sent back.

It was nice having someone else care for him and actually act on it.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is unedited, we die like men  
> -Mayo

 

The following day Harry awoke to the sound of Hermione and Ron bickering. Which in itself was quite a normal occurrence. What was not a normal occurrence however, was what they were bickering about.

“You can’t just barge into the hospital wing and demand to know why someone has been put in extensive care!” Hermione whispered furiously.

“I didn’t demand! I just wanted to know how my best mate was. Extensive care means something really bad must have come up on the diagnosis!” Anxiety leaked into the end of Ron’s sentence and Harry felt bad for worrying them so much. He started to sit up, when Madam Pomfrey burst into the room with a fierce looking man following her closely.

Her eyes swept over to Harry instantly. “Ah, you’re up. Good. Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger, if you’d please go to breakfast. Mr. Potter has to speak with Mr. Fritz about some important matters.”

“We were just wondering-” Ron started. Madam Pomfrey interrupted smoothly with a glare.

“Now, Mr. Weasley.”

“Right. See you later mate.” Ron said dejectedly. Hermione gave a small smile and wave before leaving behind Ron.

The man now known as Mr. Fritz started setting up wards as soon as Ron and Hermione exited the room. He took longer than Madam Pomfrey did yesterday, so Harry can only assume he setting up more securely. After finishing, he sat himself next to Harry’s bed and took out a clipboard.

“Now. I am Gerald Fritz and I am with the Child Protection Service Department. I work in both the wizarding world and the muggle world. I am here because Healer Pomfrey suspects abuse going back to before your time at Hogwarts. Is that true?”

Hesitantly, Harry nods. While he doesn’t like talking about it, he was willing to talk about some it to get away from the Dursleys.

Mr. Fritz sighed at the confirmation. “Can you give examples of how your relatives treated you from a young age?”

Harry nodded again. He really didn’t want to say this to a stranger but he didn't want to go to the Dursleys for two more summers. Exhaling through his nose, he started explaining.

“They made me do all the housework. Everyday they’d wake me up early, sometimes before the sun came up, and make me cook them breakfast. At first I got burned a lot and ruined the breakfast often but by the time I was seven I was fairly good at it. Afterwards they’d give me a list and said that if I couldn’t complete it I would get locked in my cupboard without food. When I did any accidental magic they locked me in for a long time”

“I’m sorry,” Fritz interrupted, looking up from the clipboard he was writing on. “Your  _ cupboard _ ?”

Harry felt very small as he continued explaining. “They said...they said that freaks like me didn’t deserve a room... so I slept in the cupboard under the stairs until my third year. After that I got the leftover room, that Dudley had already ruined.”

Fritz let no emotion display on his face, but Harry couldn’t help but feel that the man was pitying him. He  _ despised _ pity and everything that came with it.

“I see.” After a moment of silence and writing things down on the clipboard he asked for Harry to continue.

And continue Harry did.

* * *

Voldemort was impressed how Dumbledore hid information, but also very frustrated about it. He had nearly been up all night plotting, but when he actually tried to locate Harry’s blood relatives he’d hit a wall. And he was not happy about it.

After fuming silently to himself for nearly a minute more he puts his wand away and his head in hands. He couldn’t latch onto the magical trail that was  _ surely _ there so he’d have to do things the muggle way. By sorting through paperwork and memories.

Great.

* * *

After Harry had finished telling Fritz  _ everything _ about his childhood, he quickly left. Harry wasn't quite sure what would happen next, and was a little intimidated by how many notes the man took.

While Harry would’ve leapt with joy at being able to leave the Dursleys, he was emotionally exhausted. Afterwards, Madam Pomfrey force fed him more potions and then his actual lunch, which he was able to eat more of. But, he  _ still  _ wasn’t allowed to leave.

Apparently, since he had an unknown magic in his core, Madam Pomfrey was not letting him out of her sight. At least, not until she knew what it was and how dangerous it was. She wouldn’t him go up to the common room and get his schoolwork, so that he would have something to keep him busy. If she kept him here for long he’d start falling behind in his classes and Hermione would kill him.

Sighing to himself, he runs his fingers through his hair. 'There must be something I can do to pass the time so I don’t go mad.'

Scanning the room his eyes landed on a blank piece of parchment that looked perfect for doodles. Now to find a quill-

“Mr. Potter I hope you are not trying to come up with an escape plan.” Madam Pomfrey’s steely voice interrupted his train of thought. “Cause I have seen many people try and fail to escape my care.”

Harry smiled, flustered at being caught off guard. “Of course not. I wanted to know if I could doodle to pass the time.”

Eyes narrowing, Madam Pomfrey turned away from him in a huff, only to come back with a sketchpad and some pencils.

“Someone gave this to me as a christmas gift. I’ve never been one for art, however.”

Grateful, Harry accepts the sketchpad and pencils and begins to kill time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Chants rhythmically* updates! updates! updates!  
> -Mayo

There were times when Madam Pomfrey loved her job, like when she healed a scrape or a bruise and her patient smiled. There were times when Pomfrey was glad she could do her job  _ well _ , like when she is able to stop a disease from spreading. There were very few times that she hated her job.

Now was one those times.

Looking over the diagnosis scroll, she berated herself for not seeing signs. After how many times was that boy in her hospital a year, it should’ve been impossible not to see the signs. And listening to his talk with Mr. Fritz it didn’t sound like a recent thing either. She should’ve known.

Storming up to the Headmaster’s office she almost takes the door off the hinges with the amount of force she uses. There, sitting on either side of the desk where Albus and the very person she hates most, Umbridge.

“Whatever is the meaning of this?!” The pink blob, exclaims. “I spilled tea on myself!”

Pomfrey resists the urge to copy Severus’s patented sneer. “It is an emergency. I need to speak to the Headmaster and the Auror’s about several things.”

His eyes still twinkling infuriatingly, he smiled down at her. “Didn’t you already call someone into the Hospital wing today, Poppy?”

She grimaced. “Yes. There is still much more to discuss. A child is being abused, and I have a complaint against a teacher.”

“Yes, the teachers here aren’t up to par are they?” Umbridge smiled, smugness radiating off of her. “Hagrid-”

“Not Hagrid.” The words were almost hissed out of the corner of her mouth, and she glared, furious at the pink toad. Straightening herself, Pomfrey turned back towards Albus. “I won’t explain any further until the Aurors are here to take my statement.”

He frowned, the damned twinkle finally diminishing at realizing how serious she was. “Very well. Give me a moment ladies.”

After a several minutes of tense silence, the floo flares to life with Albus followed by two Aurors.

“You said that you were aware of an abused student, and a desire to file a complaint against a teacher?” Albus spoke as if there was nothing wrong in the world.

She nodded, tense.

The Aurors stepped in then. “I am Auror Gawain Robbards and this is my partner Auror Proudfoot. Please expand on your previous statement.”

Taking in a big breath through her nose, Pomfrey began. “Yesterday a student came in with a scar on his hand that was carved in via what appeared to be a blood quill. The student admitted to have gotten the scarring from one Dolores Umbridge. The newly hired Defense teacher and Senior Undersecretary, who is sitting right there. When a diagnostic scan was complete he showed signs of malnourishment and other harm.” She fixed a stern glare on both Albus and Umbridge, as they both tried to speak over each other.

“Who was this student-” “WHY I NEVER!!” Umbridge reached near banshee level and she stood up, pointing a finger at Pomfrey as she shook with rage. “THIS IS A LIE-”

“Madam Umbridge.” Auror Proudfoot interjected cooly. “Please sit down.” After a heated moment of glaring the toad sat back down.

Auror Robbards spoke next. “You have evidence and reasoning for both these claims?”

Pomfrey nodding, internally smug as she saw Umbridge go red with rage. “I can show you the scars on the student and I already contacted Gerald Fritz. He is with the Child Protection Service Department. He can fill you in on the case so far. I am also sure that the student in question is not the only one affected by the blood quill. I recommend a thorough search of everyone who has had detention with  _ her _ .”

At this Albus spoke up, trying to rid the room at some of the tension, eyes sparkling again. “I’m sure that there is no need to search every student-”

“Blood quills are a very serious thing to be using, Albus.” Pomfrey said in a dangerously quiet voice. “I will not allow any of the students to suffer under the effects, and they are unlikely to step forward when asked.”

Albus frowned disapprovingly at Pomfrey. “Very well. Try to do so as fast as possible, as to not interrupt the students educations too much.”

Auror Robbards nodded. “In the meantime, Madam Umbridge, you are placed under arrest for the suspected use of blood quills on a minor. You have a right to remain silent-”

Silent, was apparently the last thing on Umbridge’s mind. “I AM THE SENIOR UNDERSECRETARY OF THE MINISTER HIMSELF!! I WAS TASKED, BY HIM TO CLEAN UP THIS DISASTER OF A SCHOOL AND TEACH STUDENTS RESPECT FOR THEIR BETTERS! GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME!”

Both Aurors sprang up and stunned her, and escorted her through the floo. “Madam Pomfrey you will be sent an owl to notify you about the trial. You will need to testify your findings in front of the court. Farewell, Headmaster.”

The silence that followed the end of Umbridge’s screeching was tense and Albus Pomfrey. “Who was the abused student?”

“I’m afraid I’m under oath.” She smiled thinly before marching back out of the Headmaster’s office.

* * *

Albus felt his age. It wasn’t something that happened all that often. The children often filling him with youth, but after that spectacle he felt tired and old. He was under investigation from the board of governors, and he couldn’t help feeling they were right.

A blood quill used on students for something as trivial as detention.

Not only was it a dark artifact but a rather sinister one too. At least they couldn’t blame him for hiring someone so horrid. He sighed, removing his spectacles and rubbing his eyes tiredly. Finding a replacement was difficult, and he had to leave the students with Severus until he found one.

And while he didn’t doubt Severus’s ability to teach, having to do two core classes was bound to stressful on the sour man. There was a reason he didn’t continue teaching after becoming Headmaster.

Perhaps he should retire soon. Minerva was more than capable to look after the school and take care of matters. But he couldn’t help be feel that he would be running away from his problems if he did retire.

Besides, if the abused student was who he thought it was, the board of governors might not get a chance to retire.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> double update again. Whooo! I'm on a roll!  
> -Mayo

The rest of the morning passed by quietly for Harry. The only notable thing was when Madam Pomfrey left and then stormed back in. He spent the rest of the day doing messy sketches of abstract shapes. He didn’t feel that he was very good at art, but seeing as he hasn’t tried to do much, he decides that the sketches aren’t horrible.

While sketching a Quidditch player doing the Wronski Feint, Hermione and Ron check on him.

“Hey mate. You missed it! While Umbridge was on lunch break she got arrested! Dumbledore made an announcement and everything!” Ron smiled brightly at him, before turning slightly more somber. “How long is she going to keep you here for the curse? Is it bad? We came by earlier to talk to you but-”

Harry quickly interrupted his friend’s worried ramblings, holding up his hand appeasingly. “I’m fine really. She’s just checking to make sure I’m all healed up before letting me go.” Luckily, that didn’t count as one of his lies, because he actually felt fine and she was going to keep him here for a while

“Good.” Hermione said briskly. “Did she say what exactly was wrong? I looked up the effect of blood quills and most of the books didn’t say much besides causing the pain in the hand. It was tampered with, if it caused you to be unable to lie, which I’m a little worried about. Did Madam Pomfrey say what kind of curse it was?”

He shook his head. “No she didn’t. She was a little distracted by the abuse.”

Ron moved closer. “She found out then?”

“Yeah.” He muttered, looking down at his feet.

“Good. You had to tell someone.”

Harry’s eyes snapped back up to Ron’s face. “I told you.”

“That’s not the same thing, and you know it.”

Harry changed the subject. “Let me know if you find anything on the curse. It will be good to know what it is.

Hermione frowned at the subject change, but decided to let him get away with it. “I’ll keep looking to see what kind of curse or hex she could put on a blood quill to force you to tell the truth, then. See if you can find out anything.”

“We can ask the others. See if they got affected by the quill too.” Ron said, thoughtful.

Hermione looked glad to have a more specific goal in mind than blindly researching. “That’s a brilliant idea Ronald!”

He rolled his eyes. “I _can_ have them sometimes. I’m not a complete idiot.”

Harry smiled. “Obviously, otherwise you’d still trust the twins blindly.”

He pretended to shudder. “Pity anyone who does. They’re probably going to have a field day now that the toad is gone. I’m already worried about what they have in store for the rest of us.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione talked for the rest of lunch, glad that an oppressive force was removed from their lives.

* * *

Umbridge was _not happy_.

She was finally teaching those miscreants a lesson. She was beginning to set up reforms to that horrid education system. She was getting close to her goals when that farce of a healer went and ruined it all!

‘But who could have gone and turned me in! That good for nothing Potter brat probably!’ She sneered at her the back of the guard that was stationed at her cell.

‘Always was lying about everything. I’m glad I quickly took care of that!’ She smiled triumphantly.

Being forced to tell the truth about everything, he would expose the  headmaster for who he really is. A manipulator of chaos. Dumbledore probably spelled him and made him think that Voldemort returned. Just so that he could swoop in and save the day. She would've been able to forgive the boy since he was obviously under some sort of compulsion. But then he went and mucked up her perfect plan.

No. They would both pay for this. They would pay for this _dearly._

* * *

After a day and a half of searching every record of the Potters, Voldemort finally found a loose end. The mother’s muggle records, Lily, said that she had a sister. And Dumbledore was always preaching about the importance of family and familiar love. Yes, he probably left the boy with his relatives.

He smiled triumphantly.

“WORMTAIL!” He called for the sniveling rat. While annoying, he did have his uses.

“Y-y-e-es Master?” Voldemort was starting to hate stuttering fools. Between Quirrel and Wormtail, he would not take anymore particularly pathetic followers.

“We’re going into the muggle world. Your animagus form may come in handy.” While he didn’t doubt that Dumbledore had the house under heavy wards, it was unlikely that he did so for animagi. If nothing else, he could tear done the wards himself and remind the old coot that he wasn’t infallible.

Disguising himself and Pettigrew, he apparates to an alleyway near the house. It was only a short walk to the house, and a lovely day outside. Quickly approaching the boring group of houses he makes his way to the one labeled ‘4 Privet Drive’.

Stopping just off of the front lawn he does a quick check of the wards in place. He snorts and Pettigrew nearly jumps half a foot in the air at the sound. The only wards in place are an intent based ward and a rather old blood ward. Not that the blood ward would help.

‘After all,’ he thought smirking to himself, ‘I have Harry Potter’s blood now.’

“M-my Lord?”

Straightening himself, he turned away from the disgustingly uniform house. “I changed my mind. I’ll do it later.”

‘The boy will be easy to bring over if he is protected so pitifully.’

He apparates the two of them to his manor, pleased to know that by the summer, Harry Potter will be his for the taking.

 


	7. Chapter 7

After two more days of being stuck in the hospital wing Madam Pomfrey decided to release Harry. The unknown dark magic showed no sign of either leaving him or hurting the boy and she was doing no good keeping him. She did, however, force him to come back everyday for a check up during lunch and take potions at dinnertime.

She was almost relieved when the official ministry owl arrived, carrying her summons. She would finally be able to put that horrible woman where she belonged. In jail.

Taking quick steps through the atrium, she hurries to where the large room where the trial is being held.

There, in chains, is the pink monstrosity herself. She looked worse after being in a locked cell, but not as bad as she would look after being stuck with dementors. Pomfrey almost felt guilty at how happy she was seeing the woman suffer.  _ Almost _ , being the key word.

After the Aurors left it didn't take long for her to collect photo evidence of all the uses of the blood quill. Almost twenty people from each house had detention with Umbridge. Even  _ first years _ were affected. They were eleven year olds for crying out loud! The didn't deserve to be tortured like that!

None of them deserved it.

With complete conviction she presented all the gathered evidence to Wizengamot. Watching the judges reactions to the amount of evidence, she waits to hear Umbridge speak.

"All the evidence gathered here against me, is not actual evidence." She smiles sweetly, as if she isn't about to become a convicted criminal. "It is a plot against the ministry and against myself. This poor healer is under the effect of the propaganda that Dumbledore is spewing. The above accusations are  _ false _ ." Umbridge sits down, radiating smugness. Pomfrey fought the urge to smirk. None of the judges looked like they were buying her story.

No matter. She had plenty of time to prepare for this trial, and was going to present more damning evidence against the her.

Gathering her papers in her arms, Pomfrey speaks. "For those of you who doubt the reality of the photos, I have written statements from the students. From my understanding, the Aurors have also collected blood quills from Umbridge's office."

Aurors stand up and pass out both the statements and the blood quills to the judges. After reviewing some of the statements they start to murmur amongst themselves. Then, they finally reach a decision.

"Dolores Umbridge, you are guilty of using blood quills against students of Hogwarts. For your crimes you will either be fined 207 Galleons 15 Sickles and 14 Knuts, or serve 10 years in Azkaban. Make your decision now."

Grinding her teeth, Umbridge decides to pay the fine. The rest of the trial passes smoothly and Madam Pomfrey couldn't be any happier.

* * *

Severus  _ hates _ children. It was only because of the oath he made that he was working at a school as a teacher. While he couldn't care less that the Ministry teacher was gone, he was annoyed that he had to teach that class as well. It meant more grading, more teaching, and most importantly, more  _ children. _ Children themselves wouldn't be so bad if they were like Slytherins. Quiet. Resourceful. Smart. Unfortunately, most children, were not like Slytherins. There were even Slytherins who were not 'Slytherin'.

As he watches Malfoy fight with Potter, Severus feels  _ another _ headache coming on.

He  _ hates _ teaching.

* * *

Voldemort rhythmically tapped his fingers against the side of his desk. Lucius Malfoy bowed before him, having the displeasure of being the bringer of news.

"Report."

Lucius started. "My Lord, Umbridge has been stripped of her titles and forced to pay a fine for use of a blood quill."

Raising a hairless brow, he prompted Malfoy to continue. He didn't see how this was any of his concern.

"While this does not affect any of our plans, it leaves the Defense Against the Dark Arts Position open. It would be the perfect timing to implant more Death Eater at Hogwarts."

While Lucius had a point, he didn't have any good people for the position. Or, rather,  _ sane _ people who could take the position.

"Don't place anyone particular in the position, but bring me news on who does end up taking it. With our luck, the ministry will appoint another buffoon."

Lucius bowed again and left without making eye contact. Once again alone in his office, Voldemort fought the urge to sigh heavily.

Who knew that taking over the government would be this tiring.

' _ In the meantime...' _

* * *

While Harry was glad that he was released from his the hospital, he hated taking potions in the mess hall. For starters he had to fight off the urge to gag, in front of everyone. Second, he was  _ in front of everyone _ . Luckily, rumors in Hogwarts traveled fast and people knew about his stay in the hospital. Unluckily, however, people disagree on why he was there and now taking potions.

Meaning he got a lot of funny looks. And when someone gained enough courage to ask him what the potions were, the whole hall listened in.

"Hey Harry, what is that?" Lavender rudely pointed at the muddy-blood colored potion.

"My nutrient potions." He replied, nonchalantly, as if everyone in the hall wasn't looking at him.

"Yeah but why are you taking them?"

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. " _ Because _ I need nutrients."

"But-" She started, but Ginny cut in saving Harry from giving another snarky answer.

"It's none of your business really." Lavender 'humphed' and went back to her conversation with Parvati.

Ginny turned to face him. "The nerve of some people."

He smiled at her awkwardly. He really hoped that she didn't try to flirt with him or anything. While this year was better than previous years in that subject, he didn't want to push his luck. He would feel horrible when she finally confessed and he had to reject her. Luckily she turned back around to talk to one of the other fourth years. Harry turns back to his food and is almost done eating when Hermione elbows him in the side. He looks up startled.

"Sorry," she leaned in, voice dropping, "meet us in the room of requirements before the meeting starts."

He nodded, uncertain. Did something bad happen? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact 207 Galleons, 15 sickles, and 14 Knuts = $1,000 or £626.53


	8. Chapter 8

Umbridge storms up to Fudge’s office, fuming. ‘How DARE they strip my titles! After all she has done to put that BRAT in his place.’ Reaching the door, she bursts in.

“You were supposed to have my back!” She points a trembling finger at Cornelius, who nearly fell out of his plush chair when she entered the room. “You gave me that position to put those attention seeking liars in their place! And then-”

Cornelius opens his mouth to say something, but she powers through, voice getting louder after each sentence. “-you turn around and vote ‘guilty’ and get me stripped of my titles! Do you have anything to say for yourself?!” She’s nearly screaming at the end and has to take a deep breath to calm herself down.

“Dolores,” Cornelius starts placatingly. “I did take your side- Let me finish.” He puts a hand when she goes to start another tirade. “I laced the papers that the Aurors passed out with an agreeableness spell. I made sure that taking your titles and giving you a light fine was all they did. If they weren’t under the spell, they would’ve done worse.”

Umbridge huffs, and crosses her arms. While its true, she did get away with child torture with a light sentence, she would’ve preferred to not have been put on trial at all.

“So what now? I jobless, title-less, and under scrutiny. How can a get back at those  _ bastards? _ ” Umbridge leans forward over Cornelius’s desk and looks into his eyes menacingly. Revenge plans flowed through her mind freely, and she couldn’t wait to see what Cornelius suggested. While he was a bit timid and easily bought, Cornelius was the one that saw her worth and put in her the spotlight.

“Now, we lay low.”

“WHAT!” In an instant her voice was back up to banshee levels of loudness, and the Minister looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but there right now. “WE LAY LOW! I WAS JUST PUT ON TRIAL-”

“-Dolores-”

“-AND YOU WANT TO DO NOTHING!”

“DOLORES!” With his shout he has her attention again, though she looks at him without the usual level of respect. “We have lost. If we do anything else, it will look bad. I have already risked my reputation enough for your schemes of revenge and, and of torture! Now get out of my office!”

Glaring at him furiously Umbridge, the previous Undersecretary of the Minister of Magic, storms out of his office.

‘If he won’t do anything to put those vermin in their place, I will!’

Quickly, she floos back to her moderately sized manor (she was no Malfoy but her wealth wasn’t something to spit at either) and begins searching the library for acceptable poisons.

‘I’ll need something that can be administered through touch...’

* * *

Meanwhile, the current Dark Lord, is having a panic attack. Since he had extra time on his hands until Potter went back to his relatives for the summer, and all his Azkaban breakout plans were coming though, he decided to check up on his horcruxes. But instead of holding the horcrux filled Slytherin locket he was holding a note, and a cheap knock off.

Voldemort felt numb. Someone  _ literally _ stole a piece of his soul. And he doesn’t know who. The letters R.A.B. mock him, but his can’t figure out who it could be.

It could be anyone! He has so many Death Eaters and enemies, he has no idea where to even begin searching. The pitiful groan of Pettigrew on the cavern floor brings him out of his panicked thoughts.

‘I  _ need _ to check on the other ones. NOW.’

Robes billowing behind him he leaves the half dead rat animagus on the island and heads back to the cave exit. Wormtail had outlived his usefulness anyways.

* * *

“What is it Hermione?” They didn’t have time to talk before the DA meeting started so they were chattering around on the couches afterwards.

She nibbled her lip before speaking. “I’m just nervous... What if the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is worse...I don’t mind doing these DA meetings but they take up a lot of time and are very tiring to plan out...”

“I don’t think that Fudge can pick anyone worse than her.” Hermione cracks a smile. “But I do get where you’re coming from. These meetings are a lot of work to organize and control without a teacher helping us.”

“But I don’t want to stop doing them! They’re fun and a good way to revise for OWLs but...” Hermione trails off.

“Maybe we can come up with something simpler. Beside, maybe this time we’ll get lucky. Get a teacher worth their salt.” Harry tries to smile convincingly.

Hermione tiredly returns it. “We can hope.”

* * *

Fudge leans back in his chair and tiredly rubbing his temples. That woman was crazy. He had hired her because she was someone who actually completed her goals on time, and made paperwork easier on him. Now? She causes more paperwork for him.

Not only does he have to find a new defense teach for Hogwarts, he has to deal with the Daily Prophet and make sure that they don’t report her trial. It would look bad if the person he appointed, for both the Hogwarts position and as his Undersecretary, came out as someone who used blood quills on school children.

He already had to put compulsions on the paper evidence so that everyone who picked it up would think she already got what she deserved. He had so much clean up to do.

Maybe he should just ask the students to fill out a form on who they thought were the best Defense Against the Dark Art teachers before. There were a couple good ones surely. And it certainly narrows down the list of people, since most of them aren’t able to return anyways. And then the students will get someone they like out of it. He smiled to himself, before picking up his cloak and moseying towards his office door to go and fill out the necessary paperwork.

‘Yes that ought to make it simpler for me. After all very few people would turn down a job request from the Minister himself.’

* * *

Harry stared down at the paper before him. It was a list of people who had taught the DADA position in the past. He scratched his head with his quill absentmindedly. Apparently they were just going to hire an old one to replace Umbridge.

Checking the box next to Remus’s name he looks at the papers near him. Most of the teachers that had taught in the past and were still able to, were from before Harry’s time at Hogwarts. He was tempted to check off Moody’s name too, but then decided that since he didn’t actually teach, it wouldn’t be fair to pick him.

He was retired anyways.

Moving up to the front Harry turned in his form and sat back down.

‘I wonder if the Minister is actually going to pick someone who already taught. Most of them quit or got fired for a reason.’

* * *

The next day the responses were tallied and put on the Ministers desk. Cornelius was happy that the results came back so quickly, until he actually looked at the results. The students had unanimously voted for a known werewolf.

He frowned to himself. ‘No that won’t do. The parents would riot.’

He sighs and pushes the paper away from him. Maybe it would be easier to find an available Auror who could teach. Less letter from angry parents anyways. He’d have to ask the Head of the Department who was not assigned to a case and seemed like they would work well with children.

Writing out a note that he carefully folds into an airplane and spells to the Head of the Department he waits for a reply. After a couple minutes of doing boring paperwork to make sure that no one would find anything suspicious about Umbridge’s trial he receives a reply.

Unfolding the note, he quickly glances over the contents. ‘Well, that takes care of that. I’ll assign John Dawlish to the Defense Against the Dark Arts post at Hogwarts, and that will keep the parents off my back for choosing someone. And he had high marks in both his NEWTs and OWLs so he’ll know the material well.’

Smiling he goes to assign Dawlish to Hogwarts.

‘One less thing to worry about.’ 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit longer, who y'all enjoy it!  
> -Mayo

Entering the DADA classroom carefully, Harry decides to sit in the back. If he only learned one thing from seven years of magical schooling, it would be to never trust who is hired for the defense position. Even while most of the rumors agreed that the new professor was an Auror who was well respected, Harry couldn't help but feel extra cautious. After the disaster with fake Moody and the horribleness that was Umbridge, he felt that his paranoia was well founded. Unpacking his new textbook in silence as the rest of the class came in, he stole a quick glances at the room. The professor arrived just the last night but they apparently saw it necessary to change several things about the classroom right away. On one side there were desks that were crowded together in a mess that students were settling into. On the opposite side that was a wall of dummies and a small muggle work out station that Harry only recognized because of his Aunt's desperate trials to get dear Duddykins into shape. Once the desks were filled with students, who were already divided by house, the new professor entered the room and strode to the front of the class.

"I am Auror Dawlish and I've been assigned to this post for a year. From what I've been told there is a curse in place that means that there is new teacher every year. What I've gathered from looking at all of your past grades is that, because of this, you are all at different stages of learning about defense. To test what you've already learned I've set up dummies along that wall. While one half of the class takes a written test on theory, the other class will be attacking the dummies with every charm, hex, and jinx you know how to use. The dummies are spelled so that every spell used on them will appear on a piece of paper and how well it was casted. Any questions?"

As was usual for all Slytherin and Gryffindor shared classes the only one with their hand in the air was Hermione. It all seemed pretty straightforward to Harry, but Hermione liked to know how everything worked and was susceptible to questioning the teacher for hours if they let her.

"Yes, Miss…?"

"Miss Granger. I was wondering how the dummies can tell if a spell is casted correctly?"

Moving to stand in front of the unorganized grouping of desks, Dawlish answered. "It's an Auror training technique. If a spell is cast with an incorrect technique, or with too much or too little, the dummy will recognize that it was not hit with the standard spell. If that is all?" After a beat of silence where no one else spoke up or raised their hands, he continued.

"Then will this half of the class," loosely he gestures to the Gryffindor half, "get up and start with the dummies. The rest of you will be doing the test on theory. Halfway through I will stop you and you will switch."

Harry quickly stands up and pulls out his wand, picking a dummy off to the side. While Professor Dawlish hadn't started giving him any special treatment, he didn't want to risk it by being too noticeable. Pointing at his wand at the dummy his starts firing every defensive spell he knows. After exhausting his repertoire of defensive spells he hurriedly moves onto offensive spells. While it took a bit longer to move through his offensive spells, Harry still found himself finished before most of the others. After standing awkwardly for a few moments, he realizes that he's probably going to end up drawing attention to himself by not practicing spells. Moving back into a spell casting stance he starts calling out all the other spells he knows off the top of his head that weren't really fighting spells. Spells flying from his wand he didn't realize that Professor Dawlish had called out the switch until Ron roughly nudged him.

Not wanting to be the last one in his seat, Harry speed walks to his desk. Once everyone is settled, Professor Dawlish floats the tests out to them. While Harry was better at the practical part of defense, he wasn't horrible at theory either. Be one of the earlier ones to finish, but still not beating Hermione, Harry takes a quick moment to pat himself on the back. Not only did the DADA Professor seem to actually know what he was doing, he didn't seem insane either. Harry might actually have a chance to excel in class this year.

* * *

While Voldemort had a connection to snakes, this was the first time he actually dreamed he was one. Being in Nagini's body was strange, but oddly relaxing. Taking apart of the hunt and feeling Nagini's emotions and senses was new for him. Standing up from his desk where he fell asleep and had that unusual dream, he stretches a little, popping his back pleasurably.

'Must be because of the horcrux that I was able to sense her in my sleep.' Voldemort muses quietly to himself. Regardless of the reason, it wasn't an unpleasant dream. Much more enjoyable than doing paperwork like he originally was. Stretching slightly, he looked at the clock. 'Perfect! Classes at Hogwarts will be done for the day.'

"Wormtail! I need your arm."

* * *

Draco tried not to flinch when he felt his mark heat up. After the Dark Lord's return the year before, he was one of the first to be marked. He hadn't been given a task as of yet, and he couldn't decide if he was relieved or nervous. As soon as he was given one, he would be expected to perform it and failure to do so would only bring the Malfoy name more dishonor in the Dark Lord's eyes. It was the first time he called since returning to school. Trying to leave his friends as fast as he could without arousing suspicion, he makes some excuse about going to the potions classroom to ask Professor Snape. Making his way to the dungeons as to use Professor Snape's floo, he briefly wondered what task the Dark Lord would be giving him.

* * *

Watching the young Malfoy heir enter and bow gracefully, nearly made Voldemort nostalgic. Abraxas was one of the first people to swear themselves to him. The Malfoy family was marked for three generations, and even with Lucius's recent failing he couldn't help but feel attachment to the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy.

Perched comfortably on his office chair (that bore a resemblance to a throne), Voldemort called out to the youngest Malfoy. "Rise, Draco. I have a task for you."

Rising from the floor Draco looked every bit a young pureblood heir he was, though noticeably paler than usual and covered in a light layer of sweat. Voldemort smirked slightly. It seemed that Draco was still afraid of him even after spending all summer in his house. He briefly considered the idea of messing with the young Malfoy but remembering the subject of the task at hand he quickly dismissed the idea.

"I placed something in the care of your beloved Aunt Bellatrix, who in turn placed it in her Gringotts vault. I need that object. You can retrieve it since you have Black blood in your veins. It is a small cup, with two handles and engraved with badgers." Pausing briefly, he fixed the blonde with one of his colder glares. "Failure to retrieve it without drawing attention to yourself will lead to a most painful death."

Watching the boy in front of him become even more paler, Voldemort gave him a sadistic smile. "But I have the utmost faith in your abilities."

Giving a shaky nod, Draco spoke. "When do you need me to retrieve this by, My Lord?"

"You are to retrieve it during the next Hogsmeade weekend. Use the floo in the Hog's Head to get to Diagon Alley. That is all."

Bowing again at the dismissal, Draco quickly left Voldemort's presence.

'Now with that taken care of…'

* * *

With two more successful DADA classes Hermione and Harry agreed that the DA probably wasn't needed anymore, and prepared the last meeting to take place once classes got out on Friday. Glancing out across of the group of students that Harry was used to working with he feels a wave of anxiety rise. He knew that they would understand that the DA wasn't needed, but he couldn't help but feel nervous every time he addresses everybody at once.

Clearing his throat awkwardly and stealing a quick glance at where Hermione is standing next to him, he begins. "While the DA meetings were necessary in the face of a horrible teacher, now that we have a teacher who actually knows how to teach, it is no longer needed. If the quality of learning once again decreases to the level of when Umbridge teaching, then it may start up again. But, me and Hermione are in agreement that as of late, it is not needed."

Murmurs broke out across the crowd and Harry was relieved that no one seemed overly upset at the disbanding of the DA. Turning to face Hermione she give him a reassuring smile.

Collecting himself, Harry continues. "So please enjoy yourselves for the duration of the last DA meeting."

A small awkward round of claps broke out and Harry quickly motioned to the snacks that he took from the kitchen, as to take some of the attention off himself. "We got snacks."

Once everyone starts moving towards the snacks and looking at something other than Harry, he resists the urge to sigh audibly. Ron came up behind him, mouth full of a sandwich he nicked from the snack table. "You did good, mate."

"Thanks. I-"

"Hey Harry!" Fred and George interrupted. "Now that Umbitch is gone are your going to join the Quidditch team again?"

Harry startled slightly before breaking out in a wide smile. "That's right, all her decrees and punishments repealed. I can get my broom back!"

Fred and George shared Harry's smile before speaking in turns. "That's a relief. We-"

"-were really on a losing streak-"

"-without our favorite seeker."

Smiling even wider at their antics, Harry replied. "I don't know about doing Quidditch again, but Merlin it will be so good to fly again. Do you think Filch has it?"

"Nah, she kept it in her office. Dawlish probably has it."

Turning away from the twins to go retrieve his beloved firebolt, Harry calls out to them over his shoulder. "Thanks guys!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter Harry goes to flying!   
> :) Mayo


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> double update! enjoy :)  
> -Mayo

While hurrying towards the Defense classroom to retrieve his glorious firebolt, Harry runs into Professor Dawlish.

"Ah, Mr. Potter I was just looking for you!" The man smiles slightly. "I wanted to talk to you about something, if I could borrow you for a minute?"

Curiously, Harry nods. He didn't think this was about his firebolt. "Sure, Professor. I needed to talk to you about something too."

"I finished going over the results for the tests I had everyone do on the first day. You are notably further ahead than all of your classmates. I was wondering if you'd like to join the sixth year spell work days? You could still come to the days I lecture on fifth year theory."

Harry was gaping at his professor in shock. While he was always good at defense, he didn't think that he'd better that far ahead. "Er…I would like to stay at my current level if that's alright, Professor."

Dawlish frowned slightly. "If your sure. I understand your reluctance to skip ahead, but you'll probably won't find my class a challenge otherwise." After pausing for moment, obviously thinking something over, he started up again. "Would you like to be my teachers assistant instead? It wouldn't be the same as skipping ahead but it would still provide a unique challenge."

As they reached the defense classroom, Harry considered his options. While Harry didn't want to be singled out in another class, he was tempted to take the offer. Hermione would be proud of him for taking up an extracurricular that wasn't Quidditch. "I… Can I think about it some Professor?"

Nodding, Dawlish relented. "Of course. Now, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

Harry startled. He almost forgot about his firebolt. "The last teacher confiscated my broom and kept it in the defense office. I was wondering if I could have it back now that she's gone."

Dawlish scowled when he mentioned the previous owner of his position, but nodded at his request. "I have a lot of items to return to the rightful owners. What model is it?"

Harry smiled at his expression. It appeared none of the teachers liked Umbridge that much. "It was a firebolt."

Dawlish went into his office and came back a minute later with Harry's precious firebolt. "I believe that this is yours?"

Nodding mutely he reached out a held the handle. His beautiful broom. Resisting the urge to cradle it, like one would do with a small child, Harry thanks Professor Dawlish and makes a hasty retreat to the Quidditch pitch.

He was going for a ride.

* * *

Draco was trying very hard not to panic.

He was probably failing is his elevated heart rate was anything to go by. While getting into the Gringotts and accessing the Black vault that his crazed Aunt was in charge of wasn’t very hard, finding the stupid cup was.

There had to be nearly 100 cups in the vault. He had to go through and check every sing cup to make sure that is was the right one. Forget the Malfoy name, his very life was staked on whether or not he could find a bloody cup. The goblin seemed to find it hilarious to watch him panic, and Draco was very very close to shouting at it (not a good idea), when he finally saw it.

Two beautiful handles with badgers engraved in it.

Resisting the urge to cry, Draco gently picks it up and puts it into the briefcase he brought with him.

‘Mission complete.’

* * *

Voldemort was exhausted. While he had a nice nap the other day before Malfoy Jr. came over, he had to stay up all night to meet with the vampires and gain their allegiance. While they weren’t actually allergic to the sun like muggles foolishly believed, they almost always were up late at night to keep up images. Meaning to meet with them, he had to be up late at night.

His shoulders were heavy with tiredness and he had to resist the urge to apparate directly to his bed. Reaching his room, he kicks off his shoes and throws himself on the comforter dramatically.

‘Finally, some peace and quiet.’

* * *

Harry was elated. He got his firebolt back! He was doing loops and twirls and feints in the air. He missed this. He missed it so much. As soon as he was done get familiarized with his broom again, he was going to write a letter to Sirius, thanking him for the broom again.

It was so amazing to be able to fly again.

* * *

Voldemort dreamed. He didn’t dream very often, and when he did it was usually his connection with Nagini that made him do so. But this time he was flying. Twisting and turning and diving gracefully, Voldemort felt like a bird. Which was strange.

‘Shouldn’t I be a snake?’

Regardless, he felt strangely alive viewing the world around him at such a height. Hogwarts always looked majestic, but seeing it from above was strange. Dipping in between the towers and speeding around at high speeds, Voldemort felt alive, with the wind whipping through his hair. Since when did he have hair?

It didn’t matter, this felt great.

After a few more minutes of flying around the Hogwarts grounds, wind seeping the feeling from his fingers, he lands next to a red head.

“Blimey Harry that was amazing! You sure you don’t want to come back to the Quidditch team?”

Voldemort woke up in a cold sweat. Why was he in Harry Potter’s body? He had never possessed someone without meaning to expect for Nagini.

‘But that means...’

Voldemort went stiff. ‘He couldn’t be. It’s impossible.’

* * *

Harry had an amazing fly around Hogwarts, re-familiarizing himself with the breath taking view and the feeling of the wind in his hair. But as soon as he landed next to Ron, his infamous scar burst with pain and he felt a slew of emotions that weren’t his. Confusion, anger, and fear. He nearly collapsed under the stress. Ron was standing over him, concerned, but Harry couldn’t do anything until the feelings faded.

Once his head was clear and he was able to sit up again, Harry felt drained.

“You alright mate?”

Shaking his head at a futile attempt to clear his thoughts, Harry responded. “Yeah, just-” His throat tightened up and he was struck with remembering the stupid curse the Umbridge put on him.

‘Must not tell lies.’

Ron’s brow furrowed. “Just what?”

“Never mind.”

* * *

Voldemort lied in bed staring at his ceiling in shock. It could be something else right? There was no way that Harry could be his horcrux. There had to be something else. Voldemort was planning on laying in bed until his problems solved themselves when a house elf entered his chambers.

“Master’s Blondie Jr. is here. He’s carrying a cup, he is.”

“Take him to my office, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Sitting up and quickly spelling away the wrinkles in his clothes, Voldemort glides to his office. There, Draco was waiting for him with his beloved horcrux in hand. He fought the urge to sigh in relief. After the dream he wasn’t sure he could take anymore bad news today with Crucio-ing someone.

Holding out his hand, he address Draco. “I see you got the cup successfully. There was no trouble, I hope?”

Shaking his head, Draco bowed respectfully and handed the cup over. “No problems, My Lord.”

Taking the cup, Voldemort let his long fingers glide over the cup. It hummed happily with his dark energy. Closing his eyes, he held the relic to his chest. It was safe.

After a moment of silence he opened his eyes and addressed the youngest Malfoy. “This pleases me greatly, Draco. Congratulations on a job well done.”

“Thank you My Lord.”

“The next task I have for you shall be noticeably easier. You are to keep an eye on Harry Potter. You do not have to befriend him, but you are to watch his movements and write weekly reports back to me on everything he does.”

Confusion was clearly written on his face, Draco nods uncertainly. “Of course, My Lord.”

“That is all.”

Once again left alone, Voldemort gazes at his horcrux contentedly.

‘Now to get the others.’

* * *

It took several weeks of harrowing research, but she finally found it. Dolores smiles triumphantly at the recipe.

With Timoribus et Fallaciis she would be able to get her revenge.

* * *

Walking back from the Quidditch pitch with Ron chattering on at his side, Harry spaces out. Should he tell Dumbledore about what happened at the Quidditch pitch? For some reason, he didn’t want to. Besides it wasn’t like he was having another vision or dream... It was just some conflicting emotions. He gets those all the time. Dumbledore was probably busy anyways. He hasn’t seen the man in weeks, not even in the Great Hall.

“-rry? Harry?” Ron’s voice drags him out of his own head.

“Hmm?”

“I forgot the mention it early, but Colin Creevey was looking for you. Something about a note?”

Harry scrunched his face up. What now? “I’ll look for him in the common room. You coming?”

Ron shook his head apologetically. “Sorry mate, Hermione’s making m study for that quiz we got in Herbology.”

Harry smiled at him. “It’s fine. See you later then.”

Watching Ron retreat for a moment or two, Harry sets off to the common room. What note could Colin have for him? Did he get detention for something? Harry tried to rack his brain. He didn’t think he pissed off Snape too much recently. Muttering the password to the Fat Lady absentmindedly, Harry peers around the common room, before his eyes land on Colin who looked up at his entrance.

“There you are Harry! You got a note from some... Mr. Fritz? Anyways, he tells you to meet him in the hospital wing before dinner. I was about to set out and look for you again.”

Harry had completely forgotten about his appointment with Mr. Fritz. “Thanks for the message Colin.”

The boy smiled up at him brightly. Harry turned back around and began walking towards the hospital wing.

‘I wonder what we’re going to talk about.’


End file.
